


The Arrangement

by automatic_badgirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, BadDaddyKylo, Dadam, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Masturbation, Short One Shot, Smut, Suit Porn, Virginity, for my lovely Dadam Crew, never make a deal with Kylo, predicament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/automatic_badgirl/pseuds/automatic_badgirl
Summary: London in the Roaring 20's. Shopgirl Rey is framed for a theft she did not commit. Her only alternative is to make a deal with the dishonourable Lord Ren.by RogueCompanion





	The Arrangement

London 1928

 

“My Lord?” The shopkeeper, Mr. Bigelow, called hesitantly, “if you’d just step this way sir.” He pulled aside a small curtain that led into the back part of the shop on Saville Row. 

Ben Solo, The Lord Ren, turned and regarded the nervous clerk. “You are certain you aren’t wasting my time as before?”

Bigelow swallowed visibly. “Yes, I do apologize about that, m’lord. It seems the young lady had some--”

“Some what? Come-come, out with it, man.”

“Her parents were able to clear her debt, sir.”

“But this girl?”

“She is entirely without resources. She is a shopgirl in one of your other establishments.” The little man flushed. “I was able to...arrange...a rather compromising position involving some missing monies.” He handed a little stack of papers to Lord Ren  “I have threatened to terminate her if she did not agree to meet today.”

Ben flipped through the pile and nodded approvingly.

“You mean you set her up, old sport and neatly done to boot. I should think you’ve gotten quite a lot of practice with such dealings.”  Lord Ren chuckled. Mr. Bigelow had the wherewithal to look even more embarrassed.

“She is otherwise unaware of her present circumstances?”

Mr. Bigelow nodded. 

“Well let’s see if she’s worth my time.”

“And regarding..the uh” He cleared his throat. “Pertaining to our little matter…” Bigelow floundered.

Lord Ren glared. “You are referring to the ‘little matter’ of you daring to attempt to embezzle from my businesses?”

The shopkeeper hung his head and wrung his hands but said nothing. 

“You tried to nick 20,000 pounds old chap, how could one silly shopgirl make up for that?” Lord Ren’s tone was darkly amused. He had the weaselly little man over a barrel, indeed. He was anticipating the poor bugger arranging many such rendezvous for him in the future.

He stepped through into the dimly lit interior of the shop, handing his hat and gloves to the shopkeeper without a second look. He padded silently down a carpeted corridor to a closed door. He thought about knocking but half the fun might be in startling the little chit. He flung the door open.

A petite brunette spun round.  Ben let his eyes wander over her from top to bottom, saying nothing. Slim and coltish, with nice legs as far as he could tell, most of the good bits were hidden away under a frumpy mid-calf tweed suit. Chestnut curls framed a rather fetching set of dark brown eyes, which were narrowed in rage. Bit unusual that. Most of them were rather teary at this point. A feisty one would make a nice change, he decided. He closed the door and pointedly locked it. 

“I demand to know what is going on here.” She snapped. “Where is Mr. Bigelow?” A moment. “And who the hell are you?”

Definitely saucy. He approved. This would be fun. 

“Mr. Bigelow is otherwise engaged. I am Lord Benjamin Solo at your service.” He offered a mocking bow. “And what is going on here is you’ve engaged in a rather egregious act of petty larceny. To wit: 500 pounds.  _ My 500 pounds.  _ A sum like that would see you doing a tidy bit of time if I were to call the authorities…” 

He handed her the ‘proof’. She clutched the papers and flipped rapidly through them. Then more slowly as she realized her predicament.

She was shocked. “I--I never. I would never…”

“Spare me the innocent maiden routine. There are witnesses who are prepared to swear affidavits. It’s a fair cop, Miss...?” 

“I am no thief!”

“Unusual name...is that foreign?” he purred. This was turning out to be much more engaging than he imagined. 

“My name is Miss Rey Debenham and I am afraid you have made a mistake, my lord.” The last honorific was grudgingly given. 

“No. I think not.” He dragged out a heavy wooden chair and settled himself in front of her. He crossed his legs and tented his fingers. “Now I propose there are two courses of action. Number one.” He held up a finger, “I telephone the police and press charges, you are convicted and utterly disgraced and serve time in prison.” 

“And the second?”

He smiled. “Number two. I wish to watch you make yourself come.”

She went to slap him and he caught her hand easily, holding tightly. 

“No need to get into a lather, Miss Debenham,” he said lazily, enjoying the pink flush on her cheeks and the outrage in her eyes. “I promise not to touch you...unless you ask, of course.” 

“I would never! You-you are despicable!” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

He let her go. “Have you arrived at a decision or shall I give you a minute more to consider your options. Make it quick as I have a late luncheon scheduled.” 

She said nothing. Her fury made her even more striking, he decided. He couldn’t wait to see all that angry passion unleashed. His cock stirred. He hoped she would choose wisely. 

He sighed, “Very well, you leave me no choice, Miss Debenham…” he made to get up. 

“No! Wait.” The trapped panic in her voice made him even harder. “What..what exactly do I have to do.” 

“Surely, you are a woman of the world...you’ve experienced  _ le petit mort _ before?”

The desperate tears in her eyes told him the truth.

“Well well, this is interesting.” He pretended to contemplate. “I might consider  _ altering _ the terms of our agreement if you were willing to make a few small concessions?” 

“Such as?”

“I can call you by your Christian name, no more of this formality. And you in turn will call me by mine.”

“Do I still have to--?” 

“Yes. But I’ll allow you to remain unfulfilled if that is your wish. I simply want to watch for a little while.” 

“Then I am free to go?”

“Entirely.” 

She was teetering on the edge. He said nothing and let her make the decision.  She dashed the tears from her eyes and angrily began unbuttoning her jacket. 

“Slowly please.”

He reclined at ease in the chair. She fumbled with the jacket and finally dropped it to the floor. She was wearing a high necked ivory silk blouse and a matronly tweed skirt that matched the jacket. No wonder she was still a virgin. She dressed like a governess. She went to slip off her shoes. 

“No, leave them on. And come closer.” He patted his legs, inviting her. Reluctantly, she approached. 

“What do I...?” she gestured at her clothes. 

“Skirt first.” 

He could hear the zipper burr as she slid it down. She paused then shucked off the skirt. The bulky tweed thumped softly to the floor and she delicately stepped out of it. He could see the peach silk of her slip peeking out. 

“Now the blouse.” 

Her hands were shaking as she worked the row of tiny buttons. Her fingers were delicate and he imagined kissing and sucking on them, imagined them holding his cock.  Intent, he leaned forward and she shied a little.

“Careful, Rey.” 

The use of her name startled her. She glanced quickly into his eyes, paused then let the blouse slip from her shoulders to float down. She shivered a little and crossed her arms across her chest.

“No shyness now. I’ll be seeing a lot more soon enough.”  

She dropped her arms and he gazed at her, slender and lovely in a peach silk slip, stockings and low heeled shoes. A mortified waif. He titled his head observing the red blush creeping over her delicate collarbones, the jut of her nipples against the bodice of the slip. Delightful. 

“Well?”

Was that a hint of curiosity in her voice? A touch of female pride? 

“You are beautiful. Why do you hide yourself in such clothes?” 

The compliment froze her. Her fingers lingered on the strap of the slip, hesitant. He nodded and she slipped it and then the other down. He could tell when she fully committed to getting this over with, as one does with an unpleasant chore. She straightened up and lifted her chin to glare at him as she pushed the slip down over her hips and to the floor. She wore no brassiere surprisingly, just a brief lace girdle holding up her black stockings. 

Her breasts were small but suited her slim build. Her nipples were the pale pink of camellias, complimenting the natural shade of her lips as she wore no lipstick. He nodded his approval; she was a Waterhouse nymph come to life. 

“Exquisite...do you need help with the last bit?” 

“No.” She unhooked the stockings and went to slide them off.

“They can stay,” he growled. “Just to the knees if you would.” She rolled them down.

Finally she stood before him. Her public hair was a dark fluff at the juncture of her legs, contrasting with the pearly white of all her exposed flesh. She was light and shadow embodied on the Persian rug before him. He clutched at the arms of the chair. His cock pressed urgently against his fly. His desire to see her undone was enormous. 

“What do--how do I?” Her hands fluttered helplessly. She couldn’t meet his eyes now that she was so vulnerable before him. 

“Come here. Come sit on Daddy’s lap,” he ordered.

“But...you said.” She was on the edge of panic. Her hands shielding her body from his gaze. 

“I know what I said.” He snapped. “I promised to not touch you.” He softened his voice coaxing now, “and I won’t unless you want me to. But you never made any promise to not touch me, so please, come here, Rey.”

If she tried to flee this would be the moment. The best part was just after the trap was sprung; when the prey realized there was no escape. She bit her lip and he moaned softly. He bided his time despite the surging need to just take her and fuck her. 

A single tear streaked down her cheek.  _ Ah there it is.  _ His knuckles ached from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. 

She walked towards him, turned and perched lightly on his lap. She was holding herself so stiffly and he knew the slightest move by him would ruin it, despite the sweet press of her ass against his erection, he resisted the urge to crush her against him. Through monumental effort he remained perfectly still, he let her get used to the idea, to the hard feel of him against her tender flesh. He studied her smooth back, the dimples of Venus just above the perfect flare of her hips. 

“You can remove your shoes now.” 

She bent to unfasten them and the shift and slide of her in his lap was wonderful torture.  

“Now?” 

“You may begin.” 

She hesitated. 

“Come now, surely you know what to do? Just imagine some of the tiresome fumblings you’ve had to endure from country lads after the summer fetes.” 

She scowled at him over her shoulder but her hands crept up to stroke her throat. 

“Lean back sweetheart. I need to be able to watch, remember.” 

She slowly reclined, a tiny bird, settling against his large frame. Her head fell against his shoulder and the view down her recumbent body made him groan. The rise of her breasts, the slope down to her flat belly and finally ending with the peek of the dark curls of her pussy. Her thighs were pressed tightly together. Ah well, soon enough.

Her hands stroked from the column of her throat down towards her breasts. She hesitated then gently cupped them. Could it be true, had she never even touched herself, completely unspoiled? He’d have to entice her to let loose.

“Yes, very nice. Play with your nipples for me.”

She complied. Just brushing her fingers lightly over them until they were stiffened buds. 

“That’s right...” 

He smiled as her movements became a little more steady, he could see her fingers indent as she palmed her breast when one of her gentle tugs had the desired result. Her breathing had sped up too, based on the rise and fall of her ribs, he saw her eyes slowly close. He nuzzled his chin against her ear and whispered, “Relax into it, Rey.” 

Degree by degree he felt her succumb to the pleasure. One of her hands stroked lower on her belly. 

“Try opening your legs a little.” He was aware his own voice was slightly strained. She paused. He went still then grinned as he saw her thighs relax and her knees part slightly. 

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” She nodded and he licked his lips as her fingers began to brush against her curls below. She was sinking deeper. Her body, once so stiff and unyielding, melting against his. The only sounds in the room were the soft rustle of fabric as she moved against him, that and her breathing. It had become distinct and breathy. 

He wanted desperately to tear off all the layers of fabric keeping her skin from his. To feel her warmth against his bare flesh. He ground his teeth and controlled himself. His cock was aching, more so now that she’d begun to unconsciously rock against him. 

Her fingers had slid down and she was gingerly stroking herself. Still tentative in her needs. 

“Tell me how it feels, Rey,” he was determined to torture himself. 

“I--don’t know. I feel…”

“Are you getting wet?” 

“Yes.” she breathed. “I’m all slippery and I need…”

He bit down on a groan. There was nothing practiced or jaded with her. 

“Need what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t...I don’t…” she whimpered. Ben noticed her one hand was more firmly pinching and tugging at her nipple now while the other worked softly between her legs. 

“May I?” He waited to see if she would react but she was lost in her pleasure. He cupped her ass and adjusted her quickly, draping her legs over the arms of the chair. She yipped in surprise and he was careful to not touch her further. “Try now, sweetheart.” 

Her hand slid deeper along her cunt. He could tell when she found her clit because her head rocked back into his shoulder and she moaned. 

“Better?”

"Oh yes.” she panted. She opened her eyes and risked a glance at him. The naked need in her soft eyes made his fists clench at his sides. His belly was hot with agonized lust and he was dangerously close to coming in his trousers like a callow youth. 

He could see the fine bones of her hands flex as she circled her clit. 

“What do I do now…” 

“Just that. Just keep doing that.”

Despite his promise, his hands crept to her hips. He told himself it was to stop her from tumbling off his lap with her movements which were ramping up in intensity. 

“Are you going to come for me Rey?” He said thickly.

“Yes. I...yes...I want to.”

“Say my name.” He commanded. “Say, I want to come, Ben.” 

“Ben, I want...to come.” Her glassy eyes were locked on his and he clutched her hips with possessive need. Her eyes drifted shut as she single-mindedly pursued her orgasm. Gone was the prudish governess. She writhed in his lap, greedily devoted to her own gratification. 

I will fuck this woman, he promised himself. 

She was close, on the knife’s edge. Her breathy cries as she worked her hands, more and more frantic in her need. Time to end it. 

“Then come, sweetheart. Come for Daddy…” he growled in her ear. 

She shattered in his arms, bucking and sobbing. He could see the flex and curl of her stockinged toes as she rode out the bliss. She drifted back to reality slowly, panting. He slowly caressed her earlobe with his lips. 

“You are a wonder, Rey.” This was so much more than a silly shopgirl. He was tired of playing those games. He would have Rey. He would make her his, completely. 

He knew the instant she came back to herself. He lovely pliant body became all hard angles again. She made to rise, restrained by his hands on her hips. He gripped her more tightly. 

“We.” She cleared her throat. “We had an agreement,” she reminded him. 

“Indeed, we do. A gentleman never reneges on an agreement.” He let her go. 

She dressed hurriedly. Amusedly, he sat and watched her, as she attempted to garb herself in ruined dignity. Finally she turned and faced him. 

“We’re done. I never want to see you again.” Her eyes were fierce. “Honor your agreement.” 

Slowly he reached into his vest pocket and wordlessly held out the key to the door. She snatched it and fled the room, slamming the door as she left. 

He noticed a scrap of peach silk by his shoe, he bent to retrieve her slip. Forgotten in her haste to be quit of him. He rubbed the wispy fabric against his face as he desperately unfastened his fly and freed himself. He took himself in hand and pumped quickly, breathing deeply of the scent of her. It was over in seconds. He leant back, shaky with release. He wryly observed a large damp patch on the pin-striped fabric of his trousers, where she’d spent herself on his thigh. 

Oh dear, those were bespoke. Very expensive. And while a gentleman honors his agreements, he was no gentleman. 

She would have to pay for that. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> For the Dadams. Thank you for the encouragement and for posting all the pictures of Adam Driver in a suit. The talented RogueCompanion made my gorgeous moodboard.


End file.
